


The Worst Sub Ever

by blackchaps



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Crack, Dom/sub, Leashes, M/M, Public Scene, ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 17:44:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackchaps/pseuds/blackchaps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>See title, think of Dr. Rodney McKay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Worst Sub Ever

Author: blackchaps and ozsaur – so… A Chapsaur Production!

^^^^^^^^^

“Yer well past the age where a man takes a collar and settles down.” Carson unwrapped the blood pressure cuff from Rodney’s arm, eyes full of concern. “Studies show it’s good for yer health!”

“Oh, stuff it.” Rodney rubbed his arm and hated Carson a little. “I notice your neck is bare.”

“Not for lack of trying.” Carson sighed. “My first wife hated my doctor’s schedule so much she took her collar and left.”

Rodney remembered that from the file that he wasn’t supposed to have hacked and read. “She was an idiot. Now, can I go?”

Carson nodded, moving back to let him off the gurney. “I suppose. Promise me you’ll cut back on the coffee.”

“Right.” Rodney didn’t even bother to laugh at that ridiculous statement. He flipped his hand at his friend and headed for the cafeteria. Monthly health checks for uncollared subs were a complete waste of time, but Weir enforced the rule even though they were far from Earth. She did like her rules.

Since lunch was long ago, the cafeteria was empty, but there was always food, and Rodney helped himself, sitting at his usual table. He turned on his tablet while eating the bread-like stuff that the Athosians made. The quiet was actually kinda nice, and he made good progress approving or denying new projects that his minions submitted to him.

“Hey, Rodney, mind if I join you?”

Blinking up at Sheppard, Rodney took a second to switch gears. “There’re plenty of open tables,” he said because he was in no mood for Sheppard’s teasing.

“Thanks!” Sheppard sat down right across from him and peeked at the tablet. “You gonna eat your pie?”

“Don’t even think it!” Rodney moved it protectively away from him. “Yes, I went to my monthly checkup. Yes, I went to the gym and let Teyla beat on me. What do you want?”

Sheppard smiled a lazy grin that he no doubt thought was sexy. “Just eating.”

“Right.” Rodney didn’t believe that for a second. Sheppard was always on him about something. 

“Did Ronon kill more of your brain cells than usual when you were sparring?”

“Possibly.” Sheppard slid the tablet closer and peered at it. “The botanists want to do what? Again?”

“The botanists want to grow more hallucinogenic moss. Honestly, I don’t care, but when they start screaming about invisible spiders in the hallways, I have no choice but to take their toys away.” Rodney snatched his tablet back and put it on the chair next to him. “And don’t believe their crap about Carson insisting it’s for medical research.”

“Oh, I don’t.” Sheppard might have been mocking him. Rodney was never sure, but it was time to eat his pie anyway. After a minute or two of silence, Sheppard drawled, “Lorne and Elizabeth are on display this week. You going?”

Rodney stared in true horror. He couldn’t even believe Sheppard had asked. “That’s just…” Descriptions failed him.

“I’ve heard Lorne is amazing.” Sheppard wasn’t joking now.

Anger made Rodney narrow his eyes. “Oh, please. Like every sub wants to hang in manacles for his Dom. I don’t care if he looks better than all the rest of us doing it! He’s an idiot! Do you have any idea how much damage he could do to his shoulders?”

Sheppard’s eyes were round. “Uh, no.”

“Well, educate yourself, Sheppard! Being a Dom means you have to know stuff about whips and chains and–”

“Stuff?” Sheppard interrupted. “Stuff?” He began to laugh like a damn donkey, and Rodney was finished with the moron. Grabbing up his tablet, he shoved his dirty tray in Sheppard’s lap and fled to his lab. He shouldn’t even sit with stupid flyboys and their springy hair.

Zelenka shot him a sly glance as he settled in front of his laptops. “Did you enjoy your meal with the colonel?”

Rodney threw an empty jello container at him. “Shut up.”

“Everyone says he will ask you to Dr. Weir and Major Lorne’s display this week. It is very romantic.”

Absolute fury swept over him. “Your simulations are a joke. I deleted them all, or the city would’ve gone up in flames!”

“You are a petty man with delusions of godhood!” Zelenka slapped his laptop shut and hurled a powerbar at Rodney’s head. “There is no Dom stupid enough in any galaxy to strap collar below your fat head!”

“Like anyone wants you, you stringy excuse for a scientist!” Rodney sent a marker flying. “I’ve had actual lab monkeys that were smarter than you!”

“Hey, hey, you two are scaring the other geeks!” Sheppard strode inside the lab, moving between them, and Rodney saw very clearly Zelenka’s simpering look of absolute worship.

“Just because you’ve morphed into a fourteen year old sub doesn’t mean I have!” Rodney reached around Sheppard and poked Zelenka in the chest with his finger.

“Because you are idiot, the man is fair game!” Zelenka grabbed, Rodney slapped, and Sheppard screeched something about sedation, but there was no way Rodney was letting Zelenka out of the lab with all his fly-away hair on his head.

Czech curses rained down on Rodney, and his nipples would ache for a week, but he wasn’t done by half. “Slimy Czech!”

“Stupid Canadian! You are worst sub in two galaxies!”

“Better that than the worst scientist in two galaxies!” Rodney kneed Zelenka squarely in the nutsack and fell down more or less on him. The floor really hurt, and suddenly he could see Ronon bearing down on him. “No! Don’t you dare, you mangy caveman!”

Ronon smiled and fired his gun.

^^^^^^^^^

“Rodney, apologize. Now.”

Rodney hung his head so he didn’t accidentally glare at Weir. “My apologies, Dr. Zelenka.”

“You should be sorry,” Zelenka hissed. “I demand your ration of coffee for the week.”

Snapping his gaze up, Rodney silently vowed to make Zelenka’s life hell. “You little weasel!”

“That’s fair,” Weir said, ignoring Rodney’s outburst. “Dr. Zelenka, take tomorrow off.” She smiled sympathetically, and Rodney’s blood began to boil. Zelenka returned her smile – the suck up – but shot Rodney a poisonous look as he limped out the door.

“I hope that’s the end of it,” Sheppard said. “We don’t have time for you two to be fighting.”

Crossing his arms, Rodney waited for it. Sheppard shrugged. “Made Ronon’s day.”

“Hilarious,” Rodney growled.

Weir rubbed her forehead for a moment. “Rodney, you’re confined to quarters for two days, or you can report to discipline. Your choice.”

Sheppard leaned forward. “Isn’t Kavanagh on discipline duty this month?”

Anger turned to nausea, and Rodney made up his mind fast. “I’ll be in my quarters, thank you very much.” Now he spared a look for Lorne, kneeling so pretty by the desk. “Doesn’t he have duties? Clothes? A spine?”

“Rodney, I can make it three days.” Weir smiled tightly at him. “Colonel, escort Dr. McKay to his quarters, post a guard, and make sure he reads the SGC’s policy about unruly subs  _again_ .”

Now a small spike of fear raced through Rodney’s veins. He got to his feet. “You wouldn’t.”

“Don’t push me.” She pointed at the door. “Dismissed. Both of you.”

Stomping, Rodney headed for the transporter, and he didn’t appreciate Sheppard trailing after him.

“Good job, Rodney. I think she’s mad at me now too,” Sheppard whined.

“Oh, shut up.” Rodney glared at Chuck, who swallowed hard, and tried to get the transporter doors to shut before Sheppard squeezed inside.

In a blink, they were in the right corridor, and Rodney refused to look at him. “How about you trot on? I can handle going inside my quarters.”

“I’m not disobeying her. I like my ass white, and military discipline is much harsher than civilian.” Sheppard opened the door to Rodney’s quarters. “In. I’ll join you in a second.”

Rodney locked him out, knowing it wouldn’t hold. He slumped down on his bed, trying to get a picture of Sheppard’s white ass taking the strap out of his head and wishing for coffee. Zelenka knew how to hurt a man, taking away his coffee ration. That was far worse than strappings or confinements.

It wasn’t long before Sheppard stepped inside without the door even stuttering. “Okay, let’s review.”

“Again?” Rodney made a show of rolling his eyes.

“Obviously you weren’t listening the first three times.” Sheppard put his hands on his hips. “Hey, wait a minute, maybe we’ve been going about this wrong. Are you even a sub?”

Shocked, Rodney jumped to his feet. “Of course I am! Do you think I  _like_ ordering people around all day?”

“Yes.” Sheppard nodded firmly.

“Well, I don’t. If people would just do what they were supposed to do, my work load would be cut in half!”

“So…” John’s brow furrowed. “You’re a sub?”

“God,  _you’re_ an idiot.” Rodney itched to throw something at him.

“Prove it.” John gave a meaningful glance at the floor in front of his boots.

Rodney felt his jaw hanging open and shut his mouth with a click. “Wait, are you kidding me? I have a bad back, and you want me to have bad knees too?”

Sheppard rolled his eyes. “The policy clearly states that any unruly sub can be arbitrarily assigned to a Dom who the commanding officer – that would be Dr. Weir – picks out for said unruly sub. Get it? You pull anyone else’s hair and knee them in the junk, and Weir is giving you to a Dom, probably Kavanagh!”

“None of this would’ve happened if Zelenka wasn’t crushing on you like some twinky sub!” 

Rodney tried to work up some indignation, but he was scared. Subbing for Kavanagh would be a fate worse than death by citrus. “It’s your fault too!”

“What did I do?” Sheppard shouted.

“You’re you! All handsome and virile and Dom-y!” Rodney yelled back at him. “And slinky and sexy and you have the sexual morals of a hamster!”

Moving closer, Sheppard loomed over him. “Then you’ll take my collar.”

Time slowed down and then froze, and Rodney tried to form a coherent thought. “Well, not some cheap leather collar. I’m allergic.”

“God, only you, McKay.” Sheppard turned on his heel and left without a look back. Two Marines glanced inside and smirked before shutting the door.

Rodney sat down very hard and punched his pillow. “Platinum might be nice,” he bitched to himself, knowing that Sheppard was far too smart to collar a sub like Rodney. A sub with a backbone, genius, and a keen desire to live another day, which meant strict boundaries and rules that were never broken for any reason. Idly shoving at a towel with his foot, Rodney sighed. 

“Where the hell is my laptop?”

^^^^^^^^^^

“You don’t understand. I need coffee!” Rodney waved his arms, hoping to intimidate these mindless Marines. “Ronon is a close personal friend of mine!”

They looked at each other. One of them groaned and touched his earbud. “Colonel Sheppard? Dr. McKay is having a coffee emergency.”

Rodney put his hands on his hips. “And I mean now!”

The Marine listened intently and then barely glanced at Rodney. “He said no means no, and a Wraith holding cell is in your future if you don’t leave his Marines alone.”

“Spineless wimps!” But Rodney went back into his room and shut the door. It wasn’t that he was scared. Sheppard wouldn’t do it, but it was becoming clear that they really weren’t going to get him coffee. His head pounded and his neck ached from pure caffeine withdrawal, and he hated each and every person on Atlantis. They obviously had no idea how important he was or who they were messing with, but once his head stopped trying to roll off, he’d show them.

“Rodney?”

Rubbing his forehead, Rodney was hard put not to scream in frustration. “Are you here to gloat? Laugh it up? You wanted me to drink less coffee. Well, I am!”

Carson slowly held out his palm. “I meant less, not none at all. Yer head probably feels like a sheep is sitting on it.”

Seeing the small white pill nestled in Carson’s palm galvanized Rodney into action. He snatched it and swallowed it down, not even caring what it was. “Thanks,” he mumbled around a mouthful of water.

“Aye. It’ll help, for today at least.” Carson gently took a firm hold on Rodney’s wrist and listened. The touch was barely acceptable, and only because Carson wasn’t a Dom. “Sit down and breathe before you have a heart attack.”

Rodney heard real concern in Carson’s voice so he did as he was told. “This is cruel and unusual punishment, Carson.”

“Taking the strapping was a poor idea then?” Carson sat down on the bed next to him and began to massage Rodney’s neck.

“Kavanagh would’ve beaten me senseless.” Rodney groaned at the touch, letting his head tuck down and enjoying it.

Carson made a disgusted noise. “He would’ve at that.” He dug his thumbs in a little. “The whole base is talking about how you and Zelenka fought over the colonel. No one’s sure who won.”

“We were fighting because Zelenka is a moon-eyed twinkie.” Rodney could feel the medicine begin to take effect, and his eyes drowsed. “The colonel doesn’t deserve a smart sub like me.”

Laughing quietly, Carson got Rodney settled on the bed, getting rid of the shoes and pulling a blanket over him. “Rest, lad. I’ll bring you dinner later.”

That sounded good, and Rodney nodded in agreement before drifting away.

^^^^^^^^^

The smell of coffee brought Rodney awake so fast that he almost had whiplash moving towards it. His mind cleared an instant later, and he stopped himself from grabbing it out of Sheppard’s hands. A tray of food rested on his desk, but the coffee, oh the coffee was in the one place he couldn’t get it. He crossed his arms and raised his chin.

“I suppose I have to prove I’m a sub to get my reward, huh?” Rodney was an inch from dropping to his knees and opening his mouth.

Sheppard’s eyes widened. “That’s sorta sick.” He licked his lips and then slowly extended the coffee. “It’s my ration.”

Rodney carefully took the mug. Before he said a word, he sipped. Then, he placed the mug down by the food and turned back to Sheppard. “Thank you.”

After a moment of silence, Sheppard nodded. “You’re welcome.”

Unsure what to do now, feeling almost shy and hating himself for it, Rodney decided to eat and let the colonel do whatever. It was somewhat of a shock when Sheppard sat down on the rumpled bed.

“Kavanagh is telling everyone that you’re afraid of him and his strap.” Sheppard rubbed his hands up and down his thighs, and Rodney had to stop looking at him, concentrating on eating. 

“I may have to punch him.”

Surprised, Rodney stopped chewing. “He’s scared of my brain so don’t worry about it.” He’d already shifted the sanitation schedule to his liking. “Is Weir still mad?”

“Nah.” Sheppard finally stopped his hands, but he got to his feet, moving around the room and poking into corners. Nosy Dom. He gave Rodney a quizzical look. “Most subs have clean quarters.” He wrinkled his nose and pushed a shirt away with his boot.

Only the gift of coffee kept Rodney from being truly rude. As it was he had to take a deep breath and parse his words. “I think we’ve established that I’m a terrible sub. Can we move on?”

Ducking his head, Sheppard rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve been in the military since I was twenty-two. I forget sometimes that it’s okay to be a slob.”

It was the first bit of personal information that Sheppard had ever offered, so Rodney took a second to think about it instead of protesting the slob comment. “I wasn’t raised in a family where cleanliness was rewarded, and I’m far too busy keeping this city afloat to worry about whether or not there’s a towel on the floor.”

“But you hate germs.” Sheppard openly stared at him now. “Anyway, I have another meeting, and Ronon wants to spar, and… other stuff.”

Rodney didn’t want him to leave because then he’d be alone, but Sheppard beat it out the door. Over the years, Rodney had come to count Sheppard as a friend. That was all. A friend. Nothing else. Rodney took a big drink of the precious coffee, knowing how rare friendships between subs and Doms were. A dirty pair of socks sat nearby, mocking him, and he groaned. Sheppard had never even been in Rodney’s quarters before today, not that Rodney could remember, and the place looked like a sty.

“Fine. I’ll clean up, but after I finish those equations,” Rodney muttered. He crossed to the bed, retrieved his fourth favorite laptop from under his pillow. He popped it open and stared in horror at the intranet message that instantly appeared.

_Dr. Weir says no more accessing the system. You are being punished. Hah!_

_P.S. I will be supervising Kavanagh in the sanitation repairs, but you are…_

From there the message switched to Czech, and Rodney nearly threw the damn thing out the window. He slapped it shut and tossed it on the bed, not caring if he missed. He was starting to think that Weir didn’t like him.

The coffee didn’t last near long enough and there was no refill. He stared sadly at the bottom of the cup and made up his mind to take the discipline next time. It had to be better than cleaning.

^^^^^^^^^

“Dr. McKay to Dr. Weir’s office. Dr. McKay.”

Rodney practically flew out the door, forcing his detail to trot after him. It was wrong to hope there was a life-threatening emergency that desperately required his genius, but he prayed for it anyway. Sleeping, cleaning, and playing minesweeper was no way to spend the day.

Before he even reached her office, he heard Kavanagh bellowing, and he knew it was bad when he spotted Zelenka’s face. The expression was somewhere between horror and amusement, and that was never good. Weir pointed at a chair in front of her desk, and Rodney plunked his butt in it, leaning close to Zelenka.

“What did you do?” Rodney whispered.

Zelenka answered him in furious Czech, but Rodney got the gist of it. Nothing. Zelenka had done nothing, but from the sounds of Kavanagh’s ranting, something had happened.

“Dr. McKay allows this Iron Curtain reject to prance around–”

Kavanagh screamed like a little sub as Zelenka launched off his chair, kicking him in the shin and slapping him soundly.

Rodney wanted to crawl under the desk but he couldn’t take his eyes off them.

“Gentlemen! Gentlemen!” Weir yelled. “Rodney! Do something!”

“This is not my fault!” Rodney screeched, cringing as Sheppard and Ronon calmly walked in the door and stunned Zelenka and Kavanagh. They slumped to the floor, and Rodney raised his hands in surrender. “I have no idea what’s going on.”

Ronon twirled his gun, and Sheppard grinned.

“Apparently, you assigned Dr. Zelenka to supervise Dr. Kavanagh’s work on the sanitation system. Honestly, Rodney, if you can’t manage your department better, I’ll find someone who can.”

“Want me to call Carson?” Sheppard asked.

“I still don’t see the problem.” Rodney began to think he should’ve stayed in his room.

“Kavanagh contends that Zelenka ruined a day’s work with his meddling.” Weir got up from her desk and moved around to stare down at them. “And I’ve had enough. Colonel, when Zelenka wakes up, escort him to discipline.”

“I thought…” Sheppard started, waving his hand at Kavanagh.

“Have Simpson do it.” Weir glared at everyone in the room. “Rodney, I expect better from you.”

“I’ve been confined to my quarters!” Rodney couldn’t believe this. “And if anyone needs a strap taken to their ass it’s Kavanagh! The man is a menace!”

“One more catfight, and you can find work at Area 51.” Weir crossed her arms and managed to look as if Rodney had personally ruined her day. She sighed, now working the concerned eyes. 

“You need a Dom. Someone to ground you.”

“You mean someone to give me regular beatings to keep me in line,” Rodney said, shooting Sheppard a glance. “Forgive me if I decline.”

Rodney saw her set her jaw, and that was bad. “I mean, I’m a lot of sub and not everyone is up to the task.”

A strange squeaky noise came from Sheppard’s direction, and Rodney felt like he needed to do a lot of damage control. “You have my sincere apologies, Dr. Weir, and I’ll figure out a way to manage Kavanagh’s inadequacies without exposing everyone to his idiocy.”

Her eyes sparkled.

“I’m Zelenka’s supervisor, and I made the assignment. I’ll take the discipline.” Rodney clenched his ass in horror filled anticipation, but he could see he had her. “The only thing I ask is that you allow Sheppard to do it instead of Simpson. None of my scientists should be trusted with a strap.”

“Wait, I–”

“Colonel?” Weir interrupted. “You have a problem with that?”

“Yes! No. Maybe?” Sheppard flushed red. “I’m a traditionalist, ma’am.”

Weir grinned “Perfect. When you’re finished, Rodney, return to work and get your department in order.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Rodney lowered his eyes, deciding not to bring up the coffee ration. He’d get it out of Zelenka one way or the other.

Carson trotted through the doors and turned to level Sheppard with a glare. “Stop stunning people!”

Rodney got out of the way while Carson ranted, managing to escape to the cafeteria and sit pitifully – he really tried – next to Miko. Her eyes saddened and then she nudged her coffee at him.

“Will Dr. Zelenka be punished?”

“No. I took it.” Rodney took a huge gulp of coffee, letting it burn his taste buds away. “Did Kavanagh get the sanitation system upgraded?”

“Not even close.” Miko rolled her pretty eyes. “Dr. Zelenka tried, but Kavanagh started screaming, and then Simpson reported them both.”

“Tattle-tale,” Rodney mumbled. “Warn everyone off Kavanagh today, and I’ll handle the rest after…” He saw Sheppard standing in the doorway, clearly waiting for him. “Well, after.” He slugged the rest of the coffee back and said, “Thanks.”

She nodded, almost bowing, and Rodney followed Sheppard down to the room where military discipline took place, hoping that no one could hear his knees knocking together. Rodney had never been in this room, and he swallowed hard at the array of whips and chains.

“Don’t even think about running,” Sheppard said with a grin.

“Oh, I’m thinking it.” Rodney turned his back on a St. Andrew’s cross, but that meant he was staring at something even worse. “A traditionalist, huh? Does that mean you prefer the bullwhip? Something with real bite?”

Sheppard frowned slightly. “You never attended a dynamic school, did you?”

Rodney didn’t want to discuss that. It was time to get this punishment over with so he could cry for a while and then go back to work.

“That’s why displays and shows make you nervous. I’ve seen your eyes when people indulge a little on the job.” Sheppard pulled a chair to the center of the room. “We’re friends, I think, but not once have we talked about sex.”

“I discuss your inability to choose intelligent partners all the time.” Rodney slowly circled the room, hoping that the horse-like structure wasn’t on the menu today. Or any other day. “Also? We run for our lives a lot. Not exactly the right time to have a conversation about whether I prefer paddles or riding crops!”

“So… which is it?” Sheppard unbuckled his gun, putting it all on a nearby table. He rolled up his sleeves and cracked his knuckles, and Rodney had to take a deep breath or pass out.

“This is discipline. Nothing else,” Rodney snarled, uncomfortably aroused and it quickly morphed into anger. “And I have had better things to do with my life than worry about whether my partner’s sexual dynamic needs are being met! That’s all everyone in our culture worries about! Sex!” He knew he should shut up, but he just couldn’t. “So I get a rush from physics! Science! Is that so wrong?”

Sheppard tilted his head, removed his watch, and tossed it on top of his gun belt. “No.”

One simple word that totally derailed Rodney’s next argument. He tried to find some air for his lungs, and in that instant Sheppard sat down in the chair and spread his legs. Rodney felt faint. 

“Oh god.”

“I don’t use tools or toys. That’s what a traditionalist means.” Sheppard didn’t quite meet Rodney’s eyes.

“Oh. My. God.” Rodney couldn’t help himself. He ran from the room.

^^^^^^^^^^

It took two hours of near constant yelling to get his department near a semblance of order. Zelenka finally dragged in, looking the worse for wear, complaining about Ronon and Kavanagh every other sentence.

Kavanagh didn’t show up for work at all, and no one cared. Rodney cleared him of all responsibilities, putting him in charge of the botanists again. If their experiment with the Athosian Sweet Grass went well, they wouldn’t even notice.

Zelenka slunk over and stood with his head down. “I am sorry.”

Rodney sighed loudly. “You should be, but… me too.” It was a difficult admission to make. “Give me your coffee.”

Handing it over, Zelenka frowned. “When is your discipline?”

Swallowing half the coffee, Rodney shrugged. He would avoid it as long as possible, right up until they dragged him kicking and screaming over Sheppard’s lap. He had to wipe his brow at the visual image his genius brain helpfully provided.

“You know if you want to date Sheppard, I won’t–”

“Kill me?” Zelenka sat down on a stool and took off his glasses to rub his eyes. “He has crush on you, stupid man. I will pine for Dr. Weir instead.”

Mouth agape, Rodney could only stare. Then he blinked. “You’ve lost your mind.”

Zelenka nodded. “Kavanagh will pay for this.”

Rodney grinned. “Now you’re talking.”

The plotting and scheming took up enough time that dinner became necessary, and Rodney heaped his plate high. He ate methodically, keeping an eye out for Ronon and his blaster, but between one bite and the next, Sheppard materialized across the table from him.

“Stop doing that!”

“Start paying attention.” Sheppard gave him a lazy grin. “You owe Dr. Weir some time, buddy.”

Brain scrambling, Rodney finished his roll. “We can’t do it now. I just ate! You don’t want me barfing, do you?”

Sheppard raised one eyebrow. “That would be bad.”

“It would.” Rodney shoveled more food in his mouth, cleaning every speck from his tray. Sheppard nibbled on a sandwich and grinned a lot. It was damn annoying. Rodney swiped the coffee from Sheppard’s tray in retaliation, and said, “Zelenka has thrown you over for Dr. Weir.”

“I’ll sleep better knowing that.” Sheppard frowned. “Maybe.”

They laughed together, and Rodney worried a little less about his impending punishment. The temptation to ask Sheppard a bunch of questions about how exactly in this day and age of floggers and butt plugs, one even became a traditionalist, Rodney shoved away. He didn’t want to know.

“You don’t like toys?” Rodney wanted to kick himself for his fat mouth.

“Nah. Too much work.” Sheppard slinked into Rodney’s space. “Platinum, really?”

“I have very sensitive skin. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have extremely vital work to do.” Rodney did his best to look important and dignified as he all but ran from the cafeteria. He worked steadily, making sure there were no areas that Dr. Weir could find fault with, and by the time he stole another cup of coffee from Zelenka, the lab had mostly cleared out for the day.

“You should go sleep.” Zelenka eased off his stool and took a long stretch. “Or are you hiding from discipline?”

Rodney glared long enough to send him scurrying from the lab. Slowly, he finished his coffee and considered grabbing a few hours of sleep somewhere that Sheppard couldn’t find him.

“Come on, Rodney.” Sheppard leaned against the doorway, all curves and sharp angles, which made no sense at all. “It’s time for all good scientists to go to bed.”

It could be a ploy. Rodney lifted his chin. “You can’t do it now. I’m too tired.”

“So am I.” Sheppard somehow got hold of Rodney’s arm behind the elbow and steered him to his quarters. It was the first time Rodney had been touched by a Dom in so long that his brain stalled out and sparked the entire way there. Leaving him right inside the door, Sheppard gave him a small pat on the shoulder. 

“Get some sleep.”

Dumbfounded, Rodney could only nod, but he was careful to put an alarm on his door in case Sheppard changed his mind. Tired, even exhausted, Rodney kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto his bed. He’d wake up early and start thinking up more excuses to somehow escape Sheppard’s bare hand on his ass.

He quivered all over and then abruptly fell asleep.

^^^^^^^^^

_“You can’t! I haven’t eaten! You wouldn’t want me to fall into a hypoglycemic coma, would you?”_

_“You can’t! Chuck wants me in the control room!”_

“You can’t!” Rodney’s agile brain searched diligently for another excuse. Something. Anything. 

Sheppard raised his eyebrow and put his hands on his hips.

It was Rodney’s third day on the run from his discipline, and he was beyond desperate. “I hit my head on the console, and I was on my way to the infirmary!”

Sheppard frowned. “Really?”

“Yes! I have been struck upon the head!” Rodney pointed rather dramatically at his brain and got moving towards Carson and safety. Of course Sheppard trailed him all the way there. Rodney’s panic ramped up higher and higher with every step and by the time, he spotted Carson in his lab coat, he could barely breathe.

“What’s the problem, gentlemen?” Carson asked.

Sheppard pointed at Rodney’s head, Rodney opened his mouth to lie his ass off, and for some reason, the world went black.

The infirmary ceiling swam into focus slowly, but he shut his eyes when he realized Sheppard and Carson were talking about him.

“I’m telling you he doesn’t have a head injury,” Carson said softly. “He hyperventilated.”

“I know. Humor him.” Sheppard didn’t sound angry. “He’s worn himself out, running from his discipline. Keep him here today. Let him rest.”

Carson sighed. “He does make a mountain out of a molehill, but shouldn’t you be insisting he get it over with?”

“Report, Carson,” Weir said.

Now Rodney had to open his eyes, but he tried to do a groggy job of it. He sincerely wished Sheppard had answered Carson’s question.

“Oh, Rodney hit his head on a console and then worked himself into a tizzy over it. He’ll be fine.” Carson gave him a pat on the arm. “Nothing some Tylenol and a wee nap can’t fix.”

Rodney opened his mouth to say something, but Sheppard started blabbing on about something, steering Weir out of the infirmary, and that left just Carson staring at him. “What?”

“I have no idea what’s going on, but I want the truth.” Carson slid one of those round stools close to the bed and sat down. “Did you hit your head?”

“No,” Rodney whispered. He sat up and rubbed his face. “I just…”

“Don’t want Colonel Sheppard tanning your backside?”

Now was the time to start yelling, but Rodney couldn’t find energy. He nodded miserably. “He’s a traditionalist.”

Carson’s eyes widened. “Oh.” He swallowed hard. “Dr. Weir has a wicked sense of humor.”

“This is not funny.” Rodney pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms tight. “I didn’t even know what that meant, and he’s…” He sighed loudly. “Sheppard.”

“I see.” Carson probably did. He shrugged. “Well, he wants you to rest today, so we’ll do that. Tomorrow can wait another day.”

“Because there is no crisis that can’t be fixed with Scottish homilies!” Rodney got up when nudged and followed Carson back to one of the small private rooms. Before he was told, he pushed off his shoes and crawled on the bed. “I should be working.”

“Do you really want to disobey the man who’s going to have a go at your bare ass?”

“Shut up,” Rodney growled, hating that he could so easily picture it. He screwed his eyes shut and curled up. Carson put a blanket over him and gave him another pat, and Rodney mumbled his thanks. The good thing was he could hide in here all day. The bad news was that Sheppard was on to him, and Rodney just knew he was out of excuses and time.

Soon, probably tomorrow, his ass was going to feel Sheppard’s hand. Swallowing hard, he fisted the edge of the blanket and pulled it over his head.

^^^^^^^^^

“You’re coming to the display tonight,” Sheppard said. “No arguments. Be there.”

Curling in on himself, feeling more submissive than he ever had in his life, he managed a curt nod. Ronon grinned, slapping Sheppard on the shoulder, and Rodney pressed his lips together so he didn’t say something that would get him killed.

Teyla put a gentle hand on Rodney’s arm. “Major Lorne enjoys it very much. Focus on that.”

Rodney chose to focus on his coffee, unable to eat another bite of food. “Major Lorne’s an idiot,” he muttered when the conversation shifted to a recap of Kavanagh, stoned to the gills, falling into a vat of fertilizer. He still smelled wretched, and that was in no way, shape or form, Zelenka’s fault. Or Rodney’s.

“Halling confiscated all the remaining Athosian Sweet Grass.” Teyla shook her head. “We had no idea that it had any other purpose other than weaving.”

She sounded very sincere, but Rodney didn’t believe a word of it. He’d seen Halling’s shifty eyes. He stared into the bottom of his coffee cup until a prickly feeling on his neck forced him to look up. 

Sheppard narrowed his eyes, looking very toppy. “Don’t be late.”

“I sorta hate you.”

“Nothing new there,” Sheppard grumbled.

His coffee cup empty, Rodney contemplated his impending doom. Sheppard, no doubt, intended to discipline him after the display. It was disgusting, even revolting, and other than jumping off a pier or stealing a jumper, there was no way out of it.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be jumping off a pier,” Rodney mumbled, taking his tray and trudging back to his lab to pray for a galaxy-class catastrophe or just a small invasion by the Genii, where no one would get hurt, of course. He glared at everyone until they stopped talking at him, and then went to stare at his laptops.

Carson waved his hand in front of Rodney’s face, bringing him out of a fantasy where people just worked and no one had sex, ever. “What?” Rodney snapped.

“I’m going to the display now. Would you like to walk together?” Carson’s eyes were very wide.

Panicked, Rodney checked his watch. “Oh, crap. Five ’til seven!” He had to make it halfway across the city, and instead of answering, he ran. Eight hallways and three transporters later, winded, red in the face, he nearly fell in the doorway.

Everyone turned to look, but the only person Rodney saw was Sheppard.

In leather. Black leather. Pants so tight that Sheppard looked impossibly tall. He stood, eyebrow quirked, and pointed at the seat next to him.

Rodney smoothed his jacket, feeling like a slob and an idiot, and walked to the seat. He certainly didn’t appreciate the snickers, and a trickle of sweat slipped down his spine. Gingerly, he sat next to him.

“Nice you could make it, Rodney,” Sheppard drawled.

“Did you use baby powder to get those pants on?” Rodney boggled at them. His fingers twitched, wanting to stroke the leather. “Who are you getting to peel you out of them?”

Sheppard stared, saying nothing, and that made Rodney fidget.

“May I?” Carson took the other seat next to Sheppard. “Rodney, you might’ve dressed for the occasion.”

“I hadn’t planned on coming!” Rodney wanted to smack him, but Sheppard was in the way.

Carson rolled his eyes and might’ve sidled closer to Sheppard, and Rodney vowed to keep an eye on him. The last thing Sheppard needed was to get involved with a weepy sub like Carson. The crowd stilled, falling silent, and Rodney gaped at a trussed up Lorne, being led with a golden leash to center stage by Weir, who had on an outfit so outrageous that it was probably illegal in Texas.

“God,” he whispered, unable to stop his muscles from trembling. He was next. Next! Sheppard had even dressed for the occasion.

Sheppard took a firm grip of Rodney’s chin and turned him. “You will not faint. Do you hear me?”

“No promises,” Rodney squeaked, glad to look anywhere but at Lorne. Quick as a snake, he slapped questing Carson’s hand. “No touching the leather.”

“Hey! Shut up!” Cadman whispered loud enough to be heard in the gateroom.

Rodney shot her a vicious glare before glancing at the stage and clenching his jaw so he didn’t yelp when Weir applied her riding crop to Lorne’s ass. It must’ve hurt like hell, but Lorne didn’t cry, scream, or try to get away. Easing out the breath he was holding, Rodney snuck a peek at Sheppard.

No emotion at all showed on his face. None. His eyes were dark, still, not even flicking back and forth. Someone behind Rodney groaned very softly, and Carson shifted. Rodney was sure his brain switched to slow-motion for the incredibly long moment it took for Carson’s hand to reach toward Sheppard, and suddenly leather seemed like a perfectly good material to strap around Rodney’s neck.

Moving fast, Rodney whipped to his feet, grabbed Carson by the shirt, and tossed him into Cadman’s lap. “Find your own Dom, you sheepherder!”

“Rodney!” Weir yelled at the top of her lungs.

Smart enough to be horrified at breaking some arcane rule that he didn’t know because he’d never been to one of these, he quickly knelt between Sheppard’s leathered legs. “Sorry, sorry, sorry! 

Carry on with the flogging and such!”

Sheppard clapped his hand over Rodney’s mouth. “I’m your Dom?”

“Well, duh,” Rodney mumbled, but he was sure Sheppard got the message. Sheppard slipped his hand around Rodney’s neck and tucked Rodney’s face down on his leather pants. Complaining about it seemed stupid, and he was somewhat grateful he couldn’t see Lorne and Weir any longer, so he settled in close, finding a position that didn’t make his legs scream for mercy.

When the whacking, grunting, and muffled screams – Weir did like gags – were over, Sheppard gently pulled Rodney to his feet.

“Ow! Pins and needles!” Rodney smacked Sheppard on his beautiful, black leather jacket. “The abuse begins!”

Sheppard smirked. “Yes, I have nothing but abuse planned for you.”

Rodney blinked, truly worried now. “Too late to change my mind?”

“Way too late.” Sheppard pulled him into a long toe-curling kiss. Rodney was almost willing to get naked right there, but the fear of Sheppard’s strong right hand and the upcoming discipline made it impossible to relax. Sheppard frowned. “Rodney?”

Lowering his head, Rodney rushed out the truth. “You’re going to punish me in front of all these people? Now?”

Sheppard tilted his head and then shrugged. “The only thing I had planned in front of all these people was this: Rodney McKay, will you wear my collar?”

“I thought we settled this earlier.” Rodney wasn’t going to his knees again. He flushed with happiness and the thought of rubbing it in to his sister. Ronon clapped him on the shoulder, and  Teyla smiled. Rodney nodded. “I’ll wear your collar, John Sheppard, but–”

“No buts,” Sheppard said with a glint in his eye. He fumbled briefly in his coat pocket and then produced a gleaming collar. “Platinum put a dent in my savings account.”

“But it’s so worth it.” Rodney shrugged out of his coat, letting it hit the floor. He lifted his chin, and Sheppard collared him. Just like that. It was heavy. “I’m going to pull a muscle wearing this thing!”

“It is very handsome, Rodney,” Teyla said. Ronon grunted, which could’ve meant anything, and then everyone crowded around, smiling and congratulating them. Sheppard ran just enough interference to keep them all from touching his sub, and Rodney tried not to be irritated with the early onset of blatant possessiveness.

It was Weir who pushed Rodney over the edge. She shook John’s hand and said, “Glad you took my advice. We need him calm and working.”

Rodney, who happened to have his hand on John’s leather-covered ass, felt him stiffen. It could’ve been shock, but Rodney knew guilt when his hand was on it. He didn’t even need one second to think about his reaction. Pushing John aside, Rodney got right in her face.

“And you think Sheppard follows your orders blindly? That he cares if your life is well-ordered? I don’t think so! That’s Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, who has pissed off more superior officers than you can count!” He didn’t even need a breath. “He collared me because he clearly has a preference for a quality sub, who knows that there’s more to pleasing him than just looking pretty with a red ass!”

Weir drew herself up, Lorne rubbed his red ass, and Sheppard clicked a leash on Rodney’s collar. Rodney whipped around so fast that he tangled himself. “Really? Seriously?”

Sheppard’s eyes were very brown. “Please. You can yell at me later.”

“Oh, I’ll take that rain check.” Rodney crossed his arms and shut his mouth. Leashes should be against the law, and if he’d suspected Sheppard had one, this day might’ve gone differently. “So rude.”

“Colonel, take the next couple of days off. Get him under control,” Weir ground out.

Lorne snorted and rolled his eyes. “That’ll need longer than two days.”

Now she glared down at him, and Rodney almost liked him for it. Sheppard looped the leash around his wrist and smiled in his ‘let’s fool the natives’ sort of way. “Rodney and I will be fine. Is that a cut on Lorne’s back?”

Weir turned fast to inspect him, and they made their escape. Sheppard didn’t pull the leash, and if he had, Rodney would’ve punched him. They went to John’s quarters, but Rodney caught John by the arm. “I think my quarters are nicer.”

Sheppard unclipped the leash and hung it on an ornamental doo-dad by the door. “We’ll find somewhere new. Neither of our quarters are big enough for all your computers and my skateboard.”

Rodney nodded, but his mind was long past that problem and focused on the bed. The bed they were going to have sex on, punish him on, and oh, god, Sheppard might really hurt him. He’d given up his control to a member of the military, even if it was just the Air Force.

“You willing to peel me out of these pants?” Sheppard asked.

That snapped Rodney out of his spiral of despair. “Are you going to hurt me?”

“I should ask you the same. You looked like you might murder me there for a second.” Sheppard waved at the leash.

Crossing his arms, Rodney nodded. “It’s an insult. An offense. Taking away a person’s ability to communicate? Just wrong.”

“And you like to talk.” Sheppard shrugged out of his leather jacket and wrapped it around the only chair. His black T-shirt was tight, and Rodney tried not to notice. Sheppard gave him a sideways look. “I’m going to leash you occasionally, but you can complain to me about it all you want.”

“I will, and don’t expect a blowjob afterwards!” Rodney might even go so far as to withhold sex. “What else? You might as well give me all the bad news at once.” He raised his chin and tried to look defiant instead of worried.

“Nah, that’d spoil my fun.” Sheppard’s eyes twinkled infuriatingly and he put his hands on his sexy hips. Rodney swallowed hard and forced himself to look away. He flinched when Sheppard put his hand on Rodney’s shoulder.

“I have rules,” Rodney whispered. “Things I live by, and you… you’ve never met a rule you didn’t want to break.” He couldn’t look at him. What he’d done in there, out of jealousy, had been a mistake. He knew that now, staring down at Sheppard’s leather-clad legs.

Sheppard tilted Rodney’s head up and kissed him. One kiss, one amazing kiss, with tongue, and Rodney folded down to his knees, forgetting everything but the need to submit.

“Wouldn’t have believed this if I hadn’t done it with my own mouth.” Sheppard slipped his hand around Rodney’s neck. “We can move this to the bed, submissive.”

Hearing that word applied to him was a shock, but Rodney decided quickly that it wasn’t all that bad. He skimmed his hands up and down the leather pants and looked up. “I’m good here.”

Sheppard’s answering smile made all sorts of fluttery feelings erupt in Rodney’s gut, and it was far too late to stomp on them and run to his lab. He was here, on his knees, not even aching a little, and he wanted this in the way that he’d wanted to go to college at age twelve.

“Yeah,” Sheppard breathed, and Rodney applied himself to the equation of satisfying Sheppard’s dynamic, damn glad that he didn’t have to add toys into the problem. The leather was a total turn-on, not that Rodney would ever mention it, and leaving the pants on, for now, solved the problem of peeling and baby powder.

About the time Rodney’s jaw began to ache – he was out of practice, not for lack of trying – Sheppard gripped Rodney’s neck tight enough to make him look up, and come flooded Rodney’s mouth.

It was a near thing, but he managed to mostly swallow.

“Here.” Sheppard left Rodney gasping for air, retrieving a bottle of water. Rodney grabbed it and drank, accepting the hand that guided him to sit on the bed. Sheppard sat next to him. “You okay?

“Yeah.” Rodney took a deep breath and another long drink. Against his will, he found himself leaning into Sheppard. “That was…”

“Awful?” Sheppard nudged and then wrapped an arm around him. Rodney looked up, needing to know if he was being mocked again, but Sheppard just looked worried.

“No.” Rodney kept a tight grip on the water bottle to give his hands something to do. “I never…” he trailed off again, not wanting to admit his inexperience. He eased out another long breath, feeling a little weird, almost floaty.

Sheppard tugged Rodney to his feet and efficiently stripped him. It should’ve sent Rodney screeching from their room, but all he did was comply, ending up on his back with his arms over his head. Sheppard, clothes still on, stepped back and surveyed him with a totally unnecessary smirk.

“I’m not into orgasm denial.” Sheppard licked his lower lip, making it glisten. “Come as many times as you want, but we don’t stop until I’m finished.”

Thoughts of all night orgies and marathon love scenes immediately crowded out any residual anxieties, except for one. Rodney blinked up at leather-clad Sheppard and tried to remember. Then it hit him, and he sat up in a panic, mood blasted away.

“You still have to punish me!” Rodney considered bolting out of the room, but he was far too naked. For an answer, Sheppard eased out of his black T-shirt. He sat down and got rid of his boots, and Rodney tried to stop staring. “Baby powder?”

“Nah.” Sheppard shimmied out of the leather pants in record time, and Rodney quit trying. It was hopeless. Even the threat of a bare-ass spanking wasn’t enough to diminish the effect that Sheppard had on him.

“I’m screwed,” Rodney whispered. “So screwed.”

“Very, very soon.” Sheppard smirked, moving fast to get Rodney flat on his back again. “And I took that punishment for you after you ran out of the discipline room. My choice. Lorne gave me a hand. Dr. Weir wasn’t happy, but  it was my right.”

Rodney’s mouth flapped open. Amazement whipped through him, and his cock was enveloped in the warm skin of Sheppard’s too sexy body. He orgasmed hard and fast, thoughts spinning away, and when he managed to get his eyes open, Sheppard smiled, honest and true.

“I love you,” Rodney said, desperate and aching. “I’m an idiot, but I do.”

Sheppard laughed. “Oh, I know.”

^^^^^^^

the end


End file.
